Family Trees
by Ava Nova
Summary: In my final moments, my final story, I shall tell you of how Numbers came to be." Rated T R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Even though I love this idea, I am never happy with how it turns out. This came from learning about the Old Testament of the bible (Deuteronomy is in it :p) I know how I want it to end; but how to get there? I really want this story to be made from the suggestions of the people: just tell me what you want to see most in the story and I'll try to fit it in!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned CATS, would I be writing fanfiction about it?**

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My great grandfather's name was Genesis. This means 'origin' or 'beginning'.

His father named him so, praying that he may be the beginning of a new era for our kind. We weren't Jellicles then. We were free, living in family groups, alone, or in small groups of less than 10. It was hard to live this way; attacks were constant, and near everyone lived in fear.

Genesis created a new way of living; he took his mate and three kits, and started up the Jellicle tribe, allowing anyone who was willing to work as a team to join him. It was a slowly built, peaceful existence. The tribe grew, gaining over a hundred members, each special in their own way, working towards a higher goal.

Within the last year of his life, his mate died. A human contraption ran her over, and after his grief subsided he mated again, to a queen who bore him only one more son. He died near the end of the year, several days before his birthday.

My grandfather's name was Exodus. This means 'departure'. His eldest brother, Romeo, was Jellicle leader when he finally came of age, and at the celebration a large group of Pollicles found us, destroying our home. It was found that they had cornered one of the sneakier, less trustworthy Jellicles, and in exchange for his safety he had sold out the tribe. Only a few survived. Of my family, Adrianne, Genesis' only daughter, and Exodus were the only survivors. 7 other Jellicles lived.

In this time of confusion Exodus took his brother's place. The dead were buried, and it was decided to find a better place to live. A safer place.

It was Adrianne who first found the Junkyard. It's large, sturdy fences and endless piles of 'junk' made it a perfect place to live and hide. New cats were still allowed into the tribe, but the selection was much more careful from here on out. A replay of the attack was the worst fear. Exodus mated, and bore two sons. One was a stillborn.

My father's name was Leviticus. This means 'belonging to the Levites'.

Since the Jellicle tribe first started, names were no longer chosen by parents, but almost given by an unknown source. Looking into the kits eyes, you could near see the name written on them. We did not know who the Levites were, but I have recently heard that, when the human 'God' split up the land of Israel, he himself was their inheritance rather than tribal land. Hm.

Leviticus was the first to bring word that we should hold a ball each year, calling it the Jellicle Ball. He said the Everlasting Cat came to him in a dream, saying that on the same day each year he would send down a carrier at down to take one Jellicle to the Heaviside Layer, to start a new Jellicle Life. As leader, he was to chose who this was.

Of course we took this greatly; a night of singing and dancing, something that was found to be in our blood. Leviticus was mated at the first Jellicle Ball. His mate bore only one son.

My name is Deuteronomy. This means 'Repetition Of The Law'.

I was the first to fully write the laws of our kind. At a young age I became leader, and from the first few days of my leadership I was given a set of rules that should always be obeyed. They could never be written, or even said. It was an unspoken bonding of our kind, first instated during your first Jellicle Ball. Only those strong enough to betray this feeling could break these laws.

Oh, and my sons. Macavity, Munkustrap, Rum Tum Tugger. It was, in tradition, said that my son should be named 'Numbers'. But I had three sons, all of which could not become the next leader. Macavity is, of course, a felon. Tugger is far too lenient, and though Munkustrap would have made a great leader, he needs to learn that life exists outside his duties.

In my final writing, my final story, I will tell you of how Numbers came to be.

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**A/N: Ergh… that's the worst first chapter in history.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: *sigh* I'm not in a writing mood today, but I know I have to get this done.**

**M.W Roach: Yeah, this is what happens when your religion teacher drills this stuff into your head. You write stories about it :p**

**Jellicle-Wishes: I'm trying to make it a little different, but it's so hard! Glad you enjoy it. ******

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It was so difficult to figure out exactly what went wrong with Macavity. He was such a good tom, and when Munkustrap and Tugger were born he showed such wonderful leadership qualities, even at such a young age. He ruled justly and fairly, but didn't allow his emotions to cloud his judgment. Munkustrap was also in a near perfect position to be his second in command. Tugger was fine doing nothing. As a father, I cannot say it pains me to know how Tugger turned out.

His flirting and rebelliousness seemed innocent enough at first, and we were rather entertained watching him. But as it grew later, into his early adulthood, it was painfully obvious something was wrong.

He went to Macavity one day with a stash of catnip, pleading with him to hide it, and never let him have it again. He has an addiction, and wanted to stop. And as any good leader would be obliged, hiding them within his own home.

Munkustrap's life was on a totally different road. He was living a life where the tribe respected him, a friendly figure to many of the tribe. He had quite a crush on young Demeter. But then, so did Macavity.

My eldest son was heartbroken when she refused him. But he led on. But when he realized him younger brother – the responsible, _caring _brother – was the object of his 'one true love's' desire, he snapped. The catnip was nearby, he was feeling depressed….

He became addicted. And it ruined him.

He had a reaction to it, it stopped his life. He was twisted from then on, not the same tom he once was. His logic was skewered, and the torture he inflicted on poor Demeter is too horrible to tell of.

Demeter really was quite a strong queen, and she got over it. But Munkustrap was a born protector, and so she played the innocent, scared role to get him. And it was so believable, even Macavity thought it was real. But he no longer cared. If he could have been saved, I never would have had to exile him. It was painful for so many of us to see his life turn upside down as it did.

That was many years ago. Demeter still plays the fragile, wilting flower, and everyone seems to see Munkustrap as next in line as leader. Macavity has become a crime lord. Tugger is as he once has. Life goes on.

But I am stuck in a dilemma. A leader must lead fairly and justly, but not with over-emotion. He must also be part of the bloodline. Munkustrap had all these qualities, but was ruled by his emotions. Macavity was exiled. Tugger was right out of the equation, for obvious reasons. Alonzo was the next best choice, but he was not of the blood line, and has been known to suffer greatly under stress.

It is here, as I sit on the vicarage wall, waiting for the time to come when I should leave for the annual Jellicle Ball, that our story begins.

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**A/N: OoOo, excited! I'm trying to figure out exactly how I want the story to play out… any suggestions?**


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